burn you just like teenage love
by Wildcard
Summary: Written for Ego Chan. Crossover for Batman Beyond and YuGiOh. Terry has to go to Japan to investigate drugs being smuggled into Gotham but his investigation takes an odd turn when the target investigates him. Terry x Ryuuji, has sexual content.


Disclaimer: I don't own YGO or Batman Beyond. This story was a gift fic for Ego Chan and the only profit I've made is in the form of emotional validation at how much it was loved.

_burn you just like teenage love_

Batman should be in Gotham. Terry should be in college. But Terry's Wayne's assistant, there's dirty drugs coming from Japan _all the way into Gotham_, and Wayne wants Terry here, doing business with the young teens that seem to run Japan these days. Wayne says they control Japan in all but name because it's always been the businesses that run the government over there, and these kids control the yakuza as well.

Two boys, both nineteen, and supposedly between them the most successful business partnership on the planet -- Black Crown selling the goods produced by Kaiba Corp and Kaiba Corp in turn making the games designed by Shadow Dice, a child company of Black Crown, created by Black Crown's charismatic president. There should be monopoly laws against that sort of collaboration; there should be newspapers whispering about the fact that the two presidents of the company aren't just working together but also sleeping together.

There isn't so much as a whisper of discontent; Seto Kaiba and Ryuuji Otogi _own_ Japan, the land and the people both.

Terry hadn't really understood it until he'd met them. Then he'd understood why the heart's of the people might belong to Ryuuji, but not why Ryuuji would belong to Kaiba. Simple enough meeting, taking place in a boardroom as per usual for most of their business encounters. Kaiba is there first, because it's his territory, and Kaiba doesn't rise when Bruce Wayne enters the room with his assistant but instead nods in greeting. "Mr. Wayne, Mr, McGinnis -- good afternoon."

They return his greeting and settle themselves into chairs. Terry notes there are no bodyguards, though drinks and snacks are neatly set out, along with all the standard paraphenelia for a meeting of any length. There's nobody else in the room at all besides the three of them, but Kaiba appears to be unpertubed by that fact as he opens up his laptop and projects charts onto the screen, launching into a talk as if he doesn't care that his partner is missing. Terry wonders if that's a sign that Black Crown and Kaiba Corp are having difficulties, but makes him focus on the talk as best as he can. It's crisp, well-delivered and to the point, but Kaiba talks like a machine. Luckily, he doesn't need charm because he's telling the truth about Kaiba Corp's technological abilities and even more luckily, if he's this bogged down in the actual technical work, chances are that he probably won't be too good at the actual negotations.

Terry's smirking to himself about that when suddenly, the big double doors to the meeting room are flung open and a green-eyed, dark-haired whirlwind blows into the room, flings a folder down onto the desk and poses next to Seto, giving the two guests a charmingly apologetic grin, as if he knows he's erred but is sure he'll be forgiven. "Wayne-san, McGinnis-san, I'm sorry for my tardiness. Traffic was killer out there."

There's a freshly-wrapped wound over his upper left arm, the white of the bandages stark against the pale gold of his skin, and his grin takes on a ruefully amused edge as he adds, "Literally. Now, shall we continue with the talk?"

Terry stares. He's injured and wants to keep going? Bruce speaks in his old man growl, "If you're injured, we can reconvene some other time--"

Only to be interrupted by Ryuuji, who laughs and presses a quick kiss to Kaiba's cheek, cheeks a little flushed from the cold, "No, it's okay. Seto'd never forgive me if we had to waste time just because some idiot thought that taking potshots at bikers would be a good idiot." An exasperated roll of those striking green eyes, and Terry's attention is dragged away from possible thoughts of surreptitiously helping arrest whoever the crazed gunman is, focused instead on his intense the boy's gaze is.

Kaiba is looking down at the other boy who is only a few inches shorter than him, and some form of wordless communication seems to pass between them before Ryuuji shakes his head, "It's just a flesh wound. They dug the bullet out and stitched it up nicely. I won't even scar, promise. And the guy responsible has already been dealt with."

That said, he glances up at the board and smoothly picks up where Kaiba had left off, tone every bit as charming and smooth as Kaiba's hadn't been. He makes the numbers interesting, he breathes life into the proposals and gestures with his hands, drawing pictures in Terry's mind that are better than the ones actually shown.

Terry watches his arm carefully, not quite believing that any normal person would keep giving a business presentation when they're in pain, but the wound seems genuine enough by the way it's been wrapped over professionally and how Ryuuji avoids using that arm more than necessary. When he does use it, though, he skilfully moves it around so not worsen in a way that implies he's used to being injured; Terry's pretty sure that if the CEO of Black Crown spent a lot of time getting shot up, he'd know about. Ryuuji and Seto are one of the world's premier couples, at least partly due to their status of being openly gay.

When the allotted time for the day's session is over, Terry's surprised to realize the time went that fast. Kaiba picks up the laptop, shuts it down and leaves with no more than a curt nod while Ryuuji is the one to approach them, thumbs hooked idly through the waist loops of his black leather trousers, mesh sleeveless tee doing nothing to hide the lean, sculpted muscles of his body. His smile is dazzling as he tilts his head at the two men, ponytail swinging lightly, "Listen, I'm really sorry about being late today. If you'd like any recommendations for somewhere to have dinner, or go out tonight, I'd be more than glad to help out in any way possible."

"An old man like me doesn't need to go out much," Wayne's playing the old man card. That never means anything good for Terry. "McGinnis here might want to know what the young folks in the place do for fun. If you'd take him around--"

Ryuuji interrupts again. He'd done that to Kaiba as well, Terry'd noticed, anticipating comments and finishing sentences as if too impatient to wait for them to be said out when he already knows his reply. "Of course! McGinnis-san will be perfectly safe with me, if he wants to hang out, that is."

Terry knows this is Wayne's way of getting him an 'in' to the situation. Seto Kaiba control the yakuza. Seto Kaiba and Ryuuji Otogi are fucking. And have no problems being out. If Seto Kaiba knows it, Ryuuji Otogi knows it, and Terry shouldn't have too much trouble coaxing information out of one brainless pretty boy--

The part of his mind that he always thinks of as Batman cuts him off there, reminds him that even if Ryuuji's dressed like a hooker and looks like a model, he spoke like a real businessman and kept going even with a bullet wound in his arm. Seto Kaiba might look the more outwardly dangerous, but Terry can see how someone would let their guard down around Ryuuji, let him _in_, and only find the knife in their back when it's too late.

So when he smiles, he's wary behind the feigned friendliness, even as he nods and says in an accent that he deliberately makes Gotham-hard, "Sure. I bet you've got connections to get me into all the _fun_ places." His voice drips with innuendo, and Terry expects Ryuuji to laugh, lean in and share the joke, whisper about the sort of places that rich brats consider daring but can't shock a street punk like him.

Instead, Ryuuji arches an eyebrow at him, and cocks his head, openly sizing him up. The corner of his lip curls slightly, but then he smiles as well, and Terry thinks it's at least as fake as his own smile, even though Ryuuji's tone is casual as he responds, "Depends on your idea of fun, I guess. But if your form of entertainment isn't the sort that I like, then hey, we can just split ways and I'll make sure you get home safely at the end of the night."

Terry's surprised, but he recovers quickly, laughing and tipping Ryuuji a wink, "Pick me up at eight?"

"I'd say it's a date, but I think my boyfriend would kill me for that phrasing." Ryuuji smiles in return and turns to walk away, but not until after he's given a nod of farewell to Wayne.

It's the second time within their first meeting that he's used his boyfriend as a reason to not do something; Terry wonders exactly how healthy their relationship is.

By the time Ryuuji arrives at eight – punctual, wearing a black leather jacket that conceals the bandages on his arm – Terry and Wayne have had time to talk over the meeting, analyse the interactions between the two and figure out the weak point. They agreed that Ryuuji seemed the more social and inclined to talk, with Kaiba seemingly the more self-controlled, but all reports pointed towards Kaiba having initially been the one to maintain control of the yakuza with Ryuuji only getting involved with them once he started dating Kaiba. Kaiba seems to be controlling Ryuuji, or there are definite cracks in their relationship at least, which is something Terry can possibly exploit. Nothing quite like a going-to-be-jilted lover with nothing to lose for blabbing useful information.

Wayne had given orders to break off the night if things looked like they were going badly and fall back on the old standby of finding select thugs and interrogating them, though that would of course be more difficult with Terry unable to use the Batman costume – it would be too suspicious to have Batman show up in Domino at the same time that Terry McGinnis and Bruce Wayne are there. Still better than wasting his time completely, though. Gotham needs Batman; they can't stay away too long.

"Hey!" Ryuuji waves at Terry as he comes out of the hotel. He's straddling an expensive motorbike, one that Terry can't recognize as having been made by any company he knows. Then he remembers the articles he read on Ryuuji, and how the boy had prattled on about building his own customized bike, and realizes why it looks so unique, a sleek, knife-dangerous beauty of red and black. A helmet is tossed his way and he catches it reflexively, sliding it on and sitting down behind Ryuuji as he's obviously meant to do. Ryuuji's voice is muffled even though he's shouting to be heard over the roar of the engines, "Thought we'd go clubbing."

The motorcycle kicks off, and Terry's heart sinks a little within himself. Clubbing. Unschway. Loud music, and no chance to get Ryuuji to talk with him in private and unburden himself.

Still, maybe if he gets Ryuuji drunk and then leads him outside…

The first club they get to is called 'Fraudulent Zodiac'. Ryuuji knocks back shots like they're water, is instantly surrounded by a flock of fangirls, and introduces Terry to them, all of whom make it clear they're only being nice to him because Ryuuji wants it. Ryuuji senses that Terry is bored quickly enough and takes him out of there, promising something more exclusive. The second is named "All The Right Games", and it seems to be some sort of gaming club. No dancing, no music. Just tables and arenas and Terry doesn't get why they're all taking the games so seriously. You'd think it was life or death!

Then he sees someone pushed to their knees and shot in the head execution-style before he can even react, and realizes it really is life and death. He moves forwards after a second of shocked silence, ready to disarm the gunman, but Ryuuji grabs his arm, jerks him to a standstill and blocks his way with an easy grace that's alarming in how well it served to stop a fully-trained vigilante that's fought meta-humans.

"What are you doing?" The question's genuinely confused, Ryuuji canting his head to a side, "It was a legal kill, that guy lost after betting his life."

"And you can _die_ for that?! And the government allows it?!" Because yeah, Gotham isn't the safest place to be, but at least murder's always been illegal. At least they know what crimes _are_.

"Yeah, of course. Gaming's always been a major part of Domino." Ryuuji's looking at him like he's maybe just a little stupid, head tilted to a side, eyes wide with surprise that looks real, "Didn't you do your research before coming here?"

"Life isn't a slagging game, you-- you--" Terry swears, yanks his arm away from Ryuuji and stalks out. Ryuuji doesn't follow, which is just as well -- Terry's already calling up Wayne to confirm that piece of trivia. It takes a little while but Wayne eventually says that yes, deaths due to losses of games are not uncommon in Domino, or in all of Japan, and none of them are ever prosecuted. Terry's shaking with anger at having seen someone just die in front of his eyes like that, but the streets are remarkably free of crime. There are people playing with holographic monsters in the streets, but no muggers, no rapists, nothing for Terry to vent his rage on.

Eventually, he has to return to the club or risk blowing his cover. When he gets there, he's told that Ryuuji's moved on but left a limo behind here to pick Terry up. Terry gets in, expecting to be taken back to the hotel -- instead, he's dropped off outside a club called "Pretty Machines", and before he can tell the limo he didn't mean to get out (he was too busy reliving the sight of the man's head being blown off, the splatters of blood and the loud sound of the gunshot), the limo's pulled away. Slag it. He's stuck here. Might as well go in and find his erstwhile host, see if the teenager'll get him a ride home.

When he steps in, the music is loud again, but different to the first club. Harsher, more grinding, with electronic undernotes. Ryuuji's easy to spot, he's in the center of the dancefloor, dancing with his head thrown back.

There are hands all over him; he's oblivious to everyone.

His eyes are open, and his jacket has been discarded, the boy back to mesh and leather with glitter smeared over the sharp planes of his hips and collarbone. Hands decorate him, slide over his chest, his legs, grope his arms and tangle in his ponytail. He flinches only slightly when they touch his bandage, lost in the trance of the music.

Terry stands still, watching all the pretty people do ugly things. He wonders who taught Ryuuji to buy and sell his body by the pound; he wants a drink and to just make Ryuuji go _away_. Ryuuji should look debauched. Ryuuji should look vile, corrupt, spoilt like rotting goods under the big, black sun.

Ryuuji doesn't. Ryuuji's beautiful and when his gaze meets Terry's and just locks there, Terry's transfixed.

"I will find you in the crowded room. I will knock you off your feet." Ryuuji mouths the words to Terry, and Terry knows it for the truth because it has already happened.

Ryuuji's walking towards him, and Terry's word has narrowed and shrunk to Ryuuji's mouth and Ryuuji's eyes, "I will burn you just like teenage love."

Terry says "Yes", and the sound is hungry, eager, even though he knows that Ryuuji is just mouthing the lyrics of the song.

"I will eat you just like meat." Ryuuji is next to Terry by now, has his hands around Terry's wrists, is tugging him to a side door and outside and _oh_, Terry should be thinking of Hannial Lector, should be scared, should feel he's out of his depth but he's a teenage boy and the adrenalin shock is converting to something quite different to anger.

"I will break you into pieces, hold you up for all the world to see." They're outside now and the music has died down to a faint throbbing in the wall that Ryuuji shoves Terry up against, holding him there as he whispers the words into Terry's ear, even though he's shorter, even though he shouldn't be strong enough. The wall thrums behind him like a heartbeat, like his heartbeat, then Ryuuji has his tongue in Terry's mouth, and he's kissing him like it's a gunshot, like it's a booster shot of lust to supplement the instant jolt that Terry had received in the club as soon as their eyes had met.

Terry's got a girlfriend. Dana.

Terry tried dating someone from the wrong side before and it just ended up with him burnt. Melanie.

Terry hasn't forgotten that he's investigating a drug case and should be interrogating a suspect. Ryuuji.

But Ryuuji is really, really good at kissing and heck, they all say keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and maybe this'll soften Ryuuji up. Maybe this'll be what makes him split apart from Kaiba and break up the world's favorite power couple. Maybe this'll count as being for the Mission.

...Or maybe Terry just really, really likes kissing Ryuuji and he's pretty sure he should be worrying about his sexuality or thinking about the fact he's cheating on his girlfriend _again_ but _fuck_, Ryuuji's _tongue_, and the sound of a zipper going down ruins any chance Terry might have had at coherent thought.

It's his zipper. Somehow, Terry's surprised by that. Not quite as surprised by it as he is by the way that Ryuuji just drops to his knees (to his knees, fuck, the possible yakuza-leader and game designer and company president and _boyfriend to Seto Kaiba_ is on _on his knees_ in a dirty alley) and takes Terry's cock out of his jeans. Terry'd gone commando, just because he's still bad boy enough to do that, and he's really fucking grateful for that right now because it means that Ryuuji doesn't need to do anything more than unzip him, roll on a condom (and yeah, he's a little disappointed by that, but he can't blame the guy for wanting to be safe), and then take him in his mouth.

And then there's no room for surprise. There's just Ryuuji, and Ryuuji's mouth, and Ryuuji's mouth sucking his cock and yeah, Dana hates it when Terry grabs her hair but there's no slagging way that Terry can be sucked off in an alley by the world's prettiest teenage CEO without grabbing onto those silky black locks, just to see if they're as soft as they look.

They are, and if Terry wasn't so distracted by the hotness of Ryuuji's mouth (the skill of his mouth, Dana has _nothing_ on him, but Terry gets the feeling that Ryuuji's had way more practice than Dana), he might be seriously appreciating the guy's hair. Right now, though, it's just something for him to grab as he chokes out little sounds, little whimpers and moans and growls of encouragement, unable to keep his hips quite still, thrusting just a little even though he knows he shouldn't.

But Ryuuji takes it within his stride, swallows Terry down and down and down until his lips are pressed against Terry's t-shirt and Terry can _feel_ him smirking through the cloth, even if he couldn't see the smirk in Ryuuji's eyes which are brighter than the yellowed nightlights.

"Fuck-- Ryuu -- please--" Broken words, and the hum of laughter that it earns from Ryuuji makes Terry's hips spasm, and when he sees that Ryuuji can just take that too and still smile (they can't hurt you unless you let them) , he pulls his hips back and then shoves them forwards, fucking Ryuuji's mouth wildly. No choking. No attempts to slow him down. But Ryuuji's hands rest on his thighs lightly, and the boy just tilts his head back, lets Terry use his mouth and waits, the sheen of laughter not leaving his eyes like this is some private joke that Terry'll never, ever get. It makes Terry angry, makes him wonder what makes Ryuuji think he's so much better than him. A man had _died_ and Ryuuji hadn't cared, and Terry is a hero and Ryuuji's just a spoilt rich brat with a mouth that's as good at sucking cock as it is as talking, and there's no reason for him to look so fucking _smug_ and--

And when he comes, he sags forwards and bites down on his lower lip, stopping himself from crying out a name. Any name.

He wishes he that he could believe it would have been Dana's name that he'd said; he knows it wouldn't have been.

He is a teenage boy and confused; Ryuuji is taking the condom off him, knotting the top neatly in a way and tossing it into a bin that's so conveniently nearby that Terry knows it exists just for the purpose of disposing of couple's leftovers. And how many people come out here for a quick fuck, a quick blow? He supposes he's lucky that Ryuuji didn't try to fuck him; he's pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to resist, even though he's never exactly thought of himself as easy (but he knows what he wants, and in that moment, he wanted Ryuuji more than anything, like the madness of the siren's and he wishes he could blame it on the music).

Terry just breathes, trying to get his breath back, trying to make the world solid and _real_ around him again because right now, everything looks faded and Ryuuji's the only thing that's bright. But Ryuuji is holding his hand out (oh well, so much for the afterglow), and Terry takes it, lets himself be helped upright again, having not even realized that he'd slid down the wall a little in shock.

And then he's being kissed again, fast and vicious and triumphant, and it's perfect in that fucked-up way that slams right through him, that takes him somewhere inside himself that's so hard to reach, a center of perfect calm like the hurricane's eye. Ryuuji's mouth tastes like strawberry and alcohol -- the first from the condom, the second from the shots he's been knocking back -- and Terry kisses back with all the fervor of a teenager, with all the force of teenage love (lust).

When they separate, Ryuuji wipes a hand over the back of his mouth and smiles at Terry, and Terry can't tell if he was pushing the taste of Terry further in, or getting rid of it. His lips are a little swollen and Terry can't help but stare at them, just thinking of what they'd been doing a few seconds before.

"I -- that was --" Batman is never at loss for words. Batman also doesn't get his cock sucked in alleyways behind clubs by near-strangers.

This is all Terry, and Terry is confused. "Schway." He settles for saying because interrogation be damned, how do you move from 'fuck, yes, like that, god, so good' to 'So, are you smuggling drugs into Gotham'? The training manual never covered this.

Ryuuji smiles, and tosses him something shiny. Terry catches it by reflex and the shape of the keys press into his hand, "You can take the bike home. I've still got things to do."

"You're not gonna tell me what that was about?" Terry manages to arch an eyebrow, recovering a little of his equilibrium.

Ryuuji's smile is Sphinx-enigmatic, "What's there to tell? You're pretty, tense and looked like you needed a pick-me-up. Which you got." Cue a pointed look downwards, and Terry's willing to swear that his flinch is what makes Ryuuji's smile sharpen.

Belatedly, he realizes that he might be expected to offer to reciprocate. Though going from straight-with-a-girlfriend to sucked-off-by-a-male is enough of a head trip that he's pretty sure that if he tried sucking Ryuuji off, he'd probably end up biting him out of shock once it sunk into his head exactly what he was doing. Still, there's his hand, and jerking another guy off can't be all that different to doing it to himself, right?

"You want me to--" He gestures at Ryuuji's crotch for lack of a better option, and this time, Ryuuji smiles like a knife, beautiful but deadly, "No, that's okay. You just go home and sleep; Seto'll want to have everything wrapped tomorrow so you'll need to get all the rest you can to be adequately awake for it."

He doesn't even flinch as he mentions his boyfriend's name, as if he feels no guilt about having knelt in a dirty alleyway to give head to someone who could be considered a business rival. Terry searches his eyes, trying to see if Ryuuji is really that blaise (does Seto know? Is this his form of revenge on Seto for something? Why has Terry always thought of Ryuuji as Ryuuji but Kaiba is only Seto now that Terry has had his cock sucked by the man's lover?), but finds nothing. Ryuuji's eyes are jungle-green and perfectly opaque.

Finally, Terry nods. There is no weakness here to be exploited. If they are to find any evidence of guilt, Ryuuji will not be the one to give it away. He jingles the keys in his hand and turns away, "Alright. See you in the morning."

Ryuuji's a clever boy; he never says goodnight. Instead, he says, "Rest well." And makes it sound like a benediction and command at once.

Terry grins to himself and throws over his shoulder, "Yes, _Mom_."

Then he steps into a world of flashing lights and music, and leaves Ryuuji behind in the barely-lit dark.

The meeting goes well tomorrow. The deal is satisfactory to both sides. Ryuuji is completely professional and charming throughout; Terry keeps looking at Seto and wanting to tell him "Your boyfriend blew me last night while you were working".

He doesn't, though. If nothing else, Wayne would kill him.

When the meeting's over, he approaches Ryuuji this time before the other boy can leave, comes right up to him as Ryuuji's talking with Seto in low tones. Both of them stop talking as Terry arrives, and Ryuuji (ever the self-possessed) smiles at him, "McGinnis-san."

Terry can't find any trace of fear in Ryuuji's eyes, any sign that Ryuuji's wondering if Terry is about to mention what happened last night. He hates that, but smiles back at both of them anyway and holds out a business card to Ryuuji. It's one of Wayne's, but it has his own cellnumber scrawled on the back, along with his e-mail -- he's not used to writing, but apparently the ever-traditional Japanese value it, which is why he had Wayne help him with this. "Thank you for last night. If you ever come to Gotham, look me up so I can return the favor."

He leaves the wording vague on purpose, and Ryuuji's lips curled into a wide, feline smile as he takes the slip of card between his middle finger and index finger, tucking it into a pocket delicately, "I'll be sure to do that."

"See you then -- Ryuuji." Daringly, he uses Ryuuji's first name and is rewarded with a brilliant smile. Having no more excuses to draw out the conversation, Terry nods to Seto Kaiba in parting. He ought to wish the man well, or something (a plague upon both your houses), but he can't quite find it in him to do so, making him turn and leave without any final words for Ryuuji's lover.

Dana welcomes him back eagerly, and Terry's glad they kiss with their eyes closed, because the dark brown of hers can't compare to the green of Ryuuji's.

Max first tells him to get over Ryuuji. Then when she realizes he _can't_, she starts researching the other male for him, and bringing him all her findings.

Terry watches jealously as other CEOs visit Japan (Siegfried von Schroder, Pegasus Crawford) and wonders how many of them got to enjoy Ryuuji's mouth (he won't let himself think of them having anything more, the thought torments his nightmares enough) and feels a twist of bitterness in his heart every time a newscaster gushes about what a perfect couple Ryuuji Otogi and Seto Kaiba make. He wants to shout at the screen that no, they are not a perfect couple, happy lovers don't suck strangers off in alleyways, happy lovers don't have shadowed eyes because they have nothing to hide when they're truly happy, it's unhappiness that people hide.

Whether he likes it or not, he's grown up in a way that Batman couldn't help with.

He lies on his bed at home and jacks off to thoughts of Ryuuji. Sometimes, he pretends that Ryuuji went back with him to hotel, that it happened on clean sheets and a soft bed instead of the sort of alley that any drunk club kid would go to. Sometimes, he rewrites the encounter, makes it his mouth on Ryuuji's cock, and he squeezes Ryuuji's bandaged arm, pushes down on the wound and forces the boy to lose that maddeningly self-control (only Wayne is as bad and despite all the rumors, Terry's not sleeping with the old man and highly unlikely to now that green eyes are fixed in his mind).

Bruce doesn't say anything about it. His reticience is somewhat surprising. Then Talia comes out of Bruce's past, and afterwards, Bruce sits Terry down and talks to him about falling for someone from the wrong side -- talks to him not just about Talia, but also about Selina Kyle. Terry thinks, afterwards, that Bruce's forbearance makes a little more sense.

He doesn't want to hear about it'a all working out for Ryuuji. He doesn't want to hear about how everyone thinks it's great.

He knows it's all lies (people always take a step back from what's true and maybe that's why Ryuuji'd rather stay with Seto and lie with every smile rather than ever visit Gotham, visit Terry). He knows it's not true.

Green eyes haunt his dreams, both sticky and sweet and scary, and Terry doesn't know what Ryuuji's looking for, but he wants to find it first, just so that he'll have the right bait to lure Ryuuji in closer. And once Ryuuji's there, maybe Terry can explain that the hand he holds is the hand that holds him down, and that Ryuuji's mouth is like an ache he never knew.

And maybe that'll make him stay and maybe it won't. And if it doesn't, maybe Terry'll just have to kiss him, and maybe _that_ will be enough to save him. And if it's not, Terry'll just keep trying.

Because he's Batman, and he's a teenager, and he's in love. And Batman never leaves a mystery alone, or someone in need of help. And Ryuuji needs help, has to, under that pretty smirk and prettier smile. Terry has to believe that, because the only other option is admitting he's obsessed (addicted).

Batman can't afford that, but Terry can't make himself care (he's a teenager; he's in love).

Fin.


End file.
